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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26002621">Echoes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatmanWhoLaughss/pseuds/BatmanWhoLaughss'>BatmanWhoLaughss</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Kanan (Comics), Star Wars: Rebels</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Clone Wars, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Kanan Jarrus Has PTSD, Kanan Jarrus Needs a Hug, Multi, Order 66, Panic Attacks, Post-Episode: s02e04 Relics of the Old Republic, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 03:48:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,142</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26002621</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatmanWhoLaughss/pseuds/BatmanWhoLaughss</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Usually the only time you get to talk to folks outside your unit is when you’re in the infirmary,” Rex laughs. “There were these two guys that were in with me… Ah! Grey and Styles! Yeah, they were awesome, those two. Shame about what happened to em."</p><p>The mug shatters in Kanan’s hand. </p><p><em>Caleb, we cannot win this battle. You must run. Go–I’ll be right behind you.</em><br/>---<br/>Not long after the clones join the Rebellion, Kanan gets an unwelcome blast from the past. It isn't pretty.</p><p>*spoilers for the Kanan comic!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kanan Jarrus &amp; CT-7567 | Rex, Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>211</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Echoes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I feel like they REALLY should have done more with Kanan and Rex's relationship and Kanan's anxiety about having clones around, and thus this fic was born. I hope you like it (hit that like button if you do because my monkey brain needs validation)</p><p>ALSO: I know I've been writing one-shots like crazy instead of working on my longfics and I'm really sorry those haven't been updated in a little bit. I promise I'm working on them! I've just been on star wars kick lately so I need to get into a headspace to write for Criminal Minds again. Plus, classes are starting soon so my writer brain is a bit erratic right now. Updates will come soon though!! I promise &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kanan ambles into the common room of the <em> Ghost</em>, making a beeline for the caf maker. He hasn’t been getting a lot of sleep since they brought Rex and the clones back to base, and he’s hoping that an extra strong cup of caf will be enough to kick his body into gear. He’s still angry about all this, angry that <em> Ahsoka </em> of all people would want them to have clones hanging around the base, but he knows better than to argue with her or Hera. It won’t do any good.</p><p>He’s grumbling as he spots Hera sitting at the small table, talking to Rex. She gives him a small smile as he grabs his mug, but he just nods at her–he can’t bring himself to return it. He still can’t look at Rex without remembering that terrible day all those years ago. He’s on edge, and he’s been having nightmares again for the first time in months, and he knows the others are starting to notice.</p><p>Hera furrows her brow at him, and he knows she can see the bags under his eyes and the crease in his forehead. He’s never been able to hide anything from her, and she seems to send him a silent promise with her eyes–<em> we’ll talk later</em>. Great. </p><p>“That was quite the battle. I wound up in the infirmary for three weeks after that one.” Kanan still hasn’t gotten used to Rex’s voice yet, and every time he hears it he tenses for a second. </p><p>But he hears Hera laugh, and he relaxes slightly as she does. “Must have been hard for a guy like you, to be stuck in the medbay that long.” Her eyes slide over to Kanan as she says it, and he knows she’s thinking about how grumpy he was when he was recovering from Mustafar. </p><p>“Oh it wasn’t that bad, really. Made some really great friends. Usually the only time you get to talk to folks outside your unit is when you’re in the infirmary,” Rex laughs. “There were these two guys that were in with me… Ah! Grey and Styles! Yeah, they were awesome, those two. Shame about what happened to em- heard they were killed in a firefight by some smugglers.”</p><p>The mug shatters in Kanan’s hand. </p><p><em> Caleb, we cannot win this battle. You must run. Go </em> – <em> I’ll be right behind you. </em></p><p>He knows there’s caf dripping everywhere, and some part of him thinks dimly that he should take care of that before Hera gets mad, but he’s suddenly frozen to the spot. It happens in an instant; his entire body seizes up and his mind is <em> racing </em> a mile a minute. He thinks he might hear voices, see a flash of green enter his field of view and reach down to grab his hand, but he’s trembling and he can’t breathe and it’s like he’s fourteen all over again. </p><p>
  <em> Heard they were killed in a firefight by some smugglers.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Grey and Styles thrown backwards as he calls on the Force for the first time in a year, before the airlock opens and the bitter cold pierces his skin like knives. He’s so close to death, struggling to stay conscious as the pressure squeezes his whole body.  </em>
</p><p>“Kanan, love, look at me, <em> look at me</em>.” </p><p>There’s flickers of red at the edges of his vision, and his heart is beating so loudly that he can feel it thrumming in his ears. It almost blocks out Hera’s voice entirely, but he can see a vague green outline in front of him. His eyes are wide, his whole body shaking uncontrollably as he vaguely registers a faint touch on the side of his face. </p><p>
  <em> Concentrate fire on the padawan! </em>
</p><p>He’s hyperventilating now, his breaths coming faster and faster, and he has no <em> control</em>, he can’t stop, he’s seeing Master Billaba face down in the dirt, he’s seeing himself in binders with guns pointed at his head, and–</p><p>“Kanan, <em> Kanan</em>, hey, you’re alright. You’re <em> alright, </em> you’re safe.” The streaks of green are getting clearer until he can see Hera’s eyes. He can hear her, and he’s trying to focus on her voice and stop his knees from giving out beneath him as he stares at her. Her eyes are a shade of brilliant green that he’s always loved. He’s trying to take deep breaths, but right now all he can think about is how eerily similar the color is to Master Billaba’s lightsaber and he vaguely registers a light shattering above his head as the raw <em> panic </em> overtakes him. </p><p>“What’s wrong? What’s happening to him?” That <em> voice</em>. It’s the same voice from that day. It’s the voice that shot Master Billaba in the back. It’s the voice that hunted him down for <em> years</em>. And he’s hyperventilating even faster because it’s happening <em> again</em>. They’re turning on him <em> again </em> and he’s going to lose everything he’s ever cared about a second time. </p><p>“Rex. Get out<em>.</em>” His hazy brain vaguely registers the fury in Hera’s voice, and his mind unhelpfully supplies that she’s never this angry unless he forgets to run the weekly diagnostic on the <em> Ghost</em>. “Get out <em> right now. </em>” Part of him wants to tell her to lighten up, but now he’s smelling the dumpsters he dove through for weeks as he desperately looked for a place to sleep on the street and he thinks he’s going to be sick. He hears Hera tack on a softer “I’ll come find you later,” and then the door shuts behind Rex and he sways on his feet. </p><p>The room is spinning dangerously as Kanan feels a warm hand on his shoulder. It’s all too <em> much; </em> he’s too exposed here and they’re going to find him and he’s moving before he can blink. He’s forgetting where he is; half of his brain is running through a forest on Kaller and the other half is propelling his body towards his bunk. He stumbles as he goes, and suddenly he’s on the ground in a small gray room–<em>no, that’s wrong, they chased me through the forest and my head was bleeding from three different cuts</em>–and he crawls into the corner as he pulls his legs to his chest. </p><p>He’s still breathing too fast, and tears leak from the corners of his eyes as he screws them shut. He can hear the blaster fire, hear the clones barking orders to keep looking for him, and in his head he’s <em> still running</em>, so exhausted he can barely move but somehow still staying ahead of Grey and Styles. His thoughts are scattered; the flashbacks are coming too fast to stop, and he’s truly losing control for the first time in <em> years. </em> He brings his knees closer to his chest and grips his legs even tighter, and dimly he sees something fly across the room. He’s <em> terrified</em>, of the clones and the galaxy and his own power for the first time a long time. </p><p>“Love, it’s me.”  That voice. That wasn’t there when the clones were chasing him. “It’s Hera.” He feels something warm come to rest lightly on his forearm, and his wide, unseeing eyes are starting to register a bright green in his field of vision again. <em> Kaller was green too. It was gorgeous, before they all tried to kill me. </em> That voice is still talking; it’s soft and soothing and some part of his brain reminds him that that voice means safety and it always has. “You’re <em> safe</em>, Kanan, you’re on the <em> Ghost</em>.” </p><p>The <em> Ghost</em>. That’s right. He knows the <em> Ghost</em>–it’s been home for years now. The shaking ebbs just slightly as the green gets clearer, as the word <em> safe </em> reverberates through his mind. But he can still hear the blaster fire ringing in his ears. </p><p>“<em>Kanan?” </em> That’s a different voice; it’s high-pitched and afraid and he feels a new presence that he’s <em>sure </em> wasn’t there on Kaller. “Hera, wh–I felt something <em> bad</em>, and I came as soon as I could. What’s going on? What’s wrong with him?”</p><p>“Ezra, Kanan needs a few minutes.” <em> Ezra! </em> That’s familiar too. He has an <em> apprentice </em>now, someone under his protection, and he starts shaking more erratically again as he’s struck by a new fear. </p><p>“<em>Ezra,</em>” he gasps in between short breaths that are still <em> much </em> too fast. He’s lightheaded and dizzy and sweating but he needs to get Ezra out before it’s too late. “Ezra, get out of here, they’ll kill you too…”</p><p>“What–”</p><p>“Ezra, I’ve got this. Give us a few minutes okay?” There’s that voice again, the one that’s always meant home. <em> Hera</em>. He’s still shaking, and Hera’s kneeling in front of him with her hands holding his. </p><p>“Kanan? Love, I’m here. I’m right here.” There’s a hand in his hair, slowly twining through it, but he screws his eyes shut again. Hera can’t be here. Being near a Jedi is a death sentence.</p><p>“<em>Hera,</em>” he gasps. He’s struggling to get the words out. “Hera, you need to go too, they’ll kill anyone near me…” </p><p>“<em>Shhhh</em>. It’s alright. You’re on the <em> Ghost</em>. No one’s killing anyone.” Her hand is still in his hair as the other squeezes his own. “You’re <em> safe</em>, I promise. We’re all safe.” <em> Safe. </em>He thought he was safe before the clones attacked too. </p><p>His breathing slows down slightly as she pulls his hand towards her. Her face is clearer now, and he can see her hopeful smile. He’s always loved that smile, and he’s trying to focus on that instead of the bitter cold of the Kaller streets. </p><p>His shaking is starting to die down too. “That’s it. That’s it, love, you’re doing great.” She places the hand she’s holding over her heart, and he can feel how steady it is. It grounds him, makes the sounds of the rain and the blasters start to fade. He can hear the worry in her voice too, and some part of him remembers that he’s always hated making Hera worry. He uncurls his legs from his chest slightly. “No one’s going to hurt you. Just take some deep breaths for me okay? With me, come on.” </p><p>It feels like dragging his body over broken glass, but somehow he manages to take a couple of slower breaths. Her hand is still curled around his and her fingers are still carding through his hair. It’s soothing, and it’s making him gradually relax and uncurl his body little by little as his breaths return to normal. Hera’s murmuring low words of encouragement in his ear, that he’s safe, he’s home, and no one’s going to hurt him, and his eyes slide shut as he focuses on the sound of her voice. She’s always been his anchor, ever since they met, and <em> finally </em> his brain calms down enough to see her clearly.</p><p>“Hera…?” He opens his eyes to meet her worried ones, and he hates how <em> small </em> his voice sounds. </p><p>“Hey, you.” She’s still stroking his hair; she’s always known how much he liked that. “You’re safe, okay?” </p><p>He lets out a noise somewhere between a groan and a sob as he reaches for her. He’s desperate, burying his face into her shoulder and squeezing her so tightly he’s surprised she can still breathe. But she doesn’t say anything, just wraps her arms around him and holds him just as tightly. He’s sobbing, suddenly, and he knows he should be embarrassed about this, but he hasn’t had a flashback that <em> visceral </em> in years. He’s exhausted, tired and desperate. It’s like he lived the whole thing all over again, and he’s crying for his master, for the Jedi, for everything he lost and for everything he was forced to do to survive. </p><p>But he knows he owes Hera an apology. Rex too, and so he forces the words out in between shaky breaths. “Hera, I’m–I’m <em> sorry. </em>Rex–I–”</p><p>“Love, it’s okay. You’re okay. Just let it out–I’m right here,” she says, and he’s so immensely <em> grateful </em> for her in this moment that he’s overwhelmed with the power of it. He doesn’t <em> deserve </em> it. He was a coward–he still is, and he’s so damaged that he can’t keep it together even when their <em> names </em> are mentioned. He’s ashamed and scared and <em> sad</em>, and this is more tears than he’s shed in a <em> long </em> time.</p><p>Hera’s murmuring sweet nothings into his ear again, and he manages to take some deep breaths when she tells him to. Just one at first, then two, until eventually his sobs die down to short hiccups and he peers up at her through bleary eyes. She’s smiling at him, but her eyes are shining with unshed tears as she presses her lips against his sweaty forehead. </p><p>He looks down at the floor when she pulls away. “I… I broke something–”</p><p>“Don’t worry about that right now,” she says emphatically as she grabs his hand. </p><p>“But I–”</p><p>“<em>Shhh, </em>hey,” she whispers. “I don’t care about that. I care about you. Are you okay?” </p><p>He swallows thickly. The embarrassment is starting to set in, but the bigger part of him is still desperate for her. “I’m… better now. Thank you. You didn’t have to– I’m sorry I freaked out like that.” </p><p>“Kanan, you don’t ever have to apologize for something like that.” She has that look in her eye she usually only gets when she’s trying to drill something into one of her pilots’ heads, and he can’t help but smile at her. “Was it… do you wanna talk about it?” </p><p>He doesn’t, not really. He wants to crawl back into bed and sleep for a week, but he knows that Hera deserves an explanation. She’s looking at him with so much worry and love and kindness that it breaks his heart a little, and before he can stop himself he blurts it out. “Grey and Styles were the commanders of our unit, at the end of the war.” </p><p>He sees Hera’s face change. It morphs into a horrified expression and her eyes widen as she puts the pieces together. “<em>Oh </em>–oh, Kanan. So they…”</p><p>He nods, fighting the lump in his throat that stubbornly refuses to leave as he keeps going. “Yeah. Yeah, they–they carried out the order. They shot Billaba in the back, and then they came for me and didn’t stop.”</p><p>Her face crumbles. She knew everything that happened to him after the Jedi fell, has known for years, but he never told her the names of the clones who tormented him for so long. She pulls him back to her again, and his forehead drops onto her shoulder. All the fight’s gone out of him suddenly, and she starts stroking his hair again as she says, “I’m so <em> sorry</em>. I didn’t know–”</p><p>“It’s not your fault. Not Rex’s either. I should…”</p><p>“<em>Hey. </em>You’re not going anywhere. I’ll talk to Rex later,” she says, as his arms wrap around her waist. They’re still sitting on the floor, and her knees must be starting to hurt by now, but he doesn’t care. He just wants to hold her, because she’s always made him feel safer than anyone else ever had. </p><p>“I lost control. I’m sorry,” he whispers. It was so <em> violent</em>, the way the Force responded instantly to his panic. He’s a <em> Jedi, </em>for kriff’s sake, he should have a better handle on his emotions than this. He knows she can feel the way his shoulders tense up at the thought. </p><p>“What did I tell you about apologizing?” Hera chuckles softly. “You’re <em> human</em>, Kanan. You were confronted with something traumatic when you weren’t ready for it, and you were already so on edge about having the clones around that your body reacted on instinct. Right?” </p><p>He sighs. He knows she’s right, but that doesn’t stop the lingering thought that he opened himself to the Dark side by letting his fear get to him like that. “Yeah. I–I haven’t heard those names in <em> years. </em>And then it was like I was living through everything all over again.”</p><p>“I know, love. But you’re safe here. You know that, right?”   </p><p>His arms tighten around her as he nods against her shoulder. “Yeah. Thank you.”</p><p>Hera leans her head against his. “You don’t have to thank me for that.”</p><p>She pulls back to look him in the eye. “Come on,” she murmurs. She guides him slowly off the floor, still holding his hand, until she sits him down on the bed. She goes to his drawer, pulling out a pair of sleep pants and tossing them at him, and he’s about to protest when she silences him with a look. She grabs one of his shirts and a pair of shorts for herself, and they both get changed in silence. He knows he should stop her; it’s almost midday and she’s probably got work to do, after all. But the part of him that’s still trapped in the nightmare, the one that wants to curl up against her warm body and never let go, takes over as Hera walks back to the bed. </p><p>She guides his head onto her chest as his arms wind around her in a vice-like grip. One of her hands twines through his hair again, and the other rubs up and down his back in small circles. She presses her lips to his still-sweaty forehead. “You’re still trembling,” she murmurs, and he can hear the concern in her voice. </p><p>“It’s the adrenaline. I’m okay.” But he burrows in a little closer as he says it. </p><p>“You don’t have to be,” she says tentatively. “You know that, right? It’s understandable to be on edge right now. It can’t be easy to have clones around you again.” </p><p>“Don’t you have work to do?”</p><p>He’s avoiding the question, and from the dry look she gives him, she can tell. “It can wait. And you’re deflecting.”</p><p>Kanan sighs. “I know. It’s… yeah. It’s hard. I thought I put all this behind me years ago.” </p><p>Hera nods. “You survived something very few people could have. Those scars never really go away.”</p><p>He groans, and he hates how small his voice sounds when he says, “I wish they would.” </p><p>“I know, love.”</p><p>Kanan’s eyes slide shut, the exhaustion from the panic attack and the rhythm of Hera’s hand on his back starting to lull him to sleep. “I told Ezra. He wanted to know why I hate clones so much, and… I told him what happened. I should talk to him–he’ll be worried.” As a matter of fact, he can <em> feel </em> how worried Ezra is through the bond they share.</p><p>Hera shushes him again. “It can <em> wait</em>, Kanan. Just relax.”</p><p>He hums, listening to the steady beating of her heart as he feels himself start to calm down. Hera’s presence always has that effect on him, always grounds him in a way nothing else can. He knows sleep won’t come easy to him for the next few nights and he’ll be seeing vivid images of the Purge in his nightmares for days, but the fact that Hera’s willing to do this for him in the middle of the day when he <em> knows </em>she has a lot on her plate is warming his heart.  </p><p>Almost involuntarily, he squeezes her closer as the aftershocks of the flashback fade to the corners of his mind. “Thank you, Hera.” He’s already said it, but he needs to tell her again, needs her to know how completely and utterly grateful he is that she’s still here. </p><p>Hera presses her lips against his forehead again. “You’re too hard on yourself.” She leans down to kiss his lips, just a feather-light touch. “Sleep, dear. You never have to thank me for this.” </p><p>“I don’t–”</p><p>“If the next words out of your mouth are that you don’t deserve this, I’m going to hit you.” She’s laughing, but there’s an edge to her voice that lets him know the threat is real.</p><p>He chuckles, and he reaches for her hand as they fall silent again. He doesn’t, he never has, but somehow Hera still chose him, still thinks he’s worthy of being with her like this. It’s still inexplicable to him. </p><p>The exhaustion is getting the better of him now, and he’s slipping into a meditative state as his breathing starts getting more even. He’s not trembling anymore, and he’s finally starting to really relax. Her heartbeat is still steady against his ear as she pulls the blanket further over his shoulders, and he really doesn’t have the words to describe how safe she makes him feel. </p><p>Eventually, he does drift off to sleep, with Hera’s cheek against his forehead and his hand twined in hers. And surprisingly, he doesn’t dream.</p><hr/><p>Rex approaches him three days later. </p><p>The aging clone has mostly stayed away from the Specters, and Kanan couldn’t bring himself to talk to him after what happened. He knows he owes Rex an explanation, but he knows Hera well enough to know that she must have talked to him first. </p><p>Kanan’s meditating outside the <em> Ghost </em> when he hears someone approach from behind. He can’t help but tense involuntarily when he sees that it’s Rex; he’s <em> trying</em>, he really is, but he’s still not used to seeing clones again. Rex notices the subtle hitch in his shoulders and doesn’t come any closer, bringing his hands up in surrender. </p><p>“Sorry,” he says. “Hera said I’d find you here. Didn’t mean to startle you.” </p><p>“It’s alright,” Kanan mumbles. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you anyway.” He stands up, turning to face Rex and trying to will his body to untense. <em> He’s not like the others. Ahsoka trusts him. </em></p><p>Rex rubs the back of his neck, grimacing for a moment before he speaks. “Look, I–I owe you an apology.” </p><p>Kanan shakes his head. “I’m assuming you talked to Hera?”</p><p>Rex nods. “Yeah. I’m so sorry, Kanan.” </p><p>“You couldn’t have known.”</p><p>“I know us clones being here is dredging up old memories, and I’ve seen enough brothers have episodes like that to know how hard they are. I’m sorry I brought back those moments for you.”</p><p>“Rex, seriously. It’s okay. You didn’t know. I just… I wasn’t ready for the reminder.” He fights the involuntary shudder that runs through him. “It wasn’t your fault.”</p><p>Rex looks pensive as he nods. “Look, I get it if you don’t like me. I wouldn’t like me either if I were you. But for what it’s worth? I remember every minute of the Purge. I tried to fight the control for as long as I could, but if Ahsoka hadn’t overpowered me and removed my chip…” He swallows. “I’ve never stopped feeling guilty about that day.”</p><p>Kanan nods. He doesn’t quite know what to say; he’s not sure if that makes it better or worse, and there’s an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach. </p><p>He thinks that Rex is finished, but his voice is soft as he speaks again. “I met your master once, you know.” </p><p>That makes Kanan look him in the eye, meeting Rex’s sad expression with his own shocked one. “Depa Billaba, right? Her unit and ours crossed paths once, in a skirmish on a planet I don’t even remember. She was <em> fearless</em>. She even gave General Skywalker a run for his money on the battlefield.”</p><p>Kanan smiles, even though the churning in his stomach is getting worse. “Yeah. She was amazing. She surprised you, that way.” There’s an unmistakable pain in his chest as he thinks about Master Billaba; he still misses her, even now. </p><p>“Anyway, I won’t keep you.” Rex rubs the back of his neck again. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. And… the war left scars on all of us, Jedi and clone alike. We’re all that’s left of the old world. So… if you ever…”</p><p>“Yeah.” Kanan cuts him off, because there’s suddenly a lump in his throat and he can’t explain how it got there. “Thanks, Rex.”</p><p>The older man nods, then turns and walks away, leaving Kanan alone with his thoughts. He watches him go, chewing on his bottom lip thoughtfully as he sits back down to meditate. </p><p>He’s thought about the end of the war <em> so often </em> since the Purge, but not once did he stop to think about what it must be like for the clones who survived. Hearing Rex describe what happened… it was casting everything in a different light. <em> Did Grey try to fight, when they told him to kill us? Were </em> all <em> of the clones trapped inside their bodies, forced to watch and unable to stop themselves?  </em></p><p>He still doesn’t trust Rex or the other clones. Not yet. He isn’t sure if he ever will. But as he slips back into a meditative trance, he thinks that maybe, just <em> maybe </em>, the ex-Jedi and ex-clone trooper can possibly be friends someday.</p>
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